


in this moment, you mean everything

by rosedvst



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, Love Confessions, M/M, Memes, Near Death Experiences, Post-Season/Series 06, Road Trips, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, in which lance + keith are practically dating but just dont realize it, lance makes keith a mixtape and its just all terrible 80s pop songs, space road trips!, they're messes y'all!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 03:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16421417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosedvst/pseuds/rosedvst
Summary: “You really wanna kiss me, Kogane?” Lance asks, suddenly serious. His fingers twitch anxiously and his teeth gnaw at his bottom lip.Keith looks at him through the screen, right into his blue-brown eyes. (He can never tell what color Lance’s eyes are--they always seem to be shifting and changing in the light, just like the inside of a kaleidoscope.) “Yeah,” He breathes. “Yeah. You just said you wanted to make me a mixtape in a declaration of your love to me. I want to kiss you so hard right now.”





	in this moment, you mean everything

**Author's Note:**

> -hey it's me, back on my bullshit again w kl!! what can i say. they are my weakness.  
> -i've been feelin super anxious with all of the shit goin down w the leaks n stuff and i needed a reprieve so i just sat down and wrote this like all at once which was very cathartic but incredibly exhausting  
> -i am still mad that we were deprived of an actual space road-trip in s7, complete with bad singing and fast food and having heart-to-hearts w ur bro who is not really ur bro at 3 am when everyone else is asleep so. thats what this is pretty much!!  
> -unbeta'd so i apologize for any mistakes!!  
> -title is from Come on Eileen but y'all have been knew  
> and thanks for reading! comments + kudos are v much appreciated :)

☆ﾟ. * 

Lance’s voice drones over the comms, and Keith has never been so in love.

Not that he would ever say so out loud.

But Lance is singing that dumb old song that talks about walking 500 miles or something like that, and his voice is actually surprisingly smooth and pleasant, and if Keith was being honest, he could probably listen to Lance singing annoying 80’s pop songs for the entirety of their voyage back to Earth.

So that’s exactly what he does. Keith sits quietly in the Black Lion, leading the way through foreign galaxies and unfamiliar territory, and listens to Lance sing terrible, catchy songs with his beautiful voice. Hunk joins in for the chorus occasionally, and their voices harmonize nicely. Pidge groans every time Lance hits a particularly high note. Allura remains silent, but Keith knows that if she was familiar with the song, she would join in in a heartbeat.

Right now, Shiro stands behind Keith’s chair with a soft smile on his face. He looks content in a way that makes Keith’s heart clench. His brother is finally back, in his real body and on this physical plane, and it’s actually him this time, and not a clone. For the first time in a while, because Shiro is here again, Keith doesn’t feel completely lost.

Krolia stands beside Shiro, a constant and steady presence. Kosmo is curled up at Keith’s feet, fast asleep.

In the Blue Lion, Romelle and Coran sit with Allura, and chime in with the occasional question about Earth culture and the songs that Lance is singing, which Pidge answers with jabs at Lance’s music taste. This leads to several doboshes of bickering between the two about what constitutes “good music taste,” and Lance yelling, “No, Katie, just because you listen to obscure indie rock music that nobody has even heard of before doesn’t mean that you’re intellectually superior.”

It’s nice. Keith feels a warmth in his face and his chest that he doesn’t know what to do with. He feels like he’s home, like he finally belongs somewhere, even if that place is inside a giant flying mecha lion millions of light years away from Earth, caught in the middle of a playful fight between two of his best friends, while the others listen in amusement.

Lance eventually moves on from the 500 Miles song and starts singing _Tiny Dancer_ , his voice a lovely timbre that Keith just can’t get enough of. And, okay, Keith is actually familiar with this song, and he doesn’t hate it. So if he joins in softly, just barely audible over Lance singing the second verse, then that’s nobody’s business.

Of course, everyone picks up on it immediately. Pidge makes a noise of surprise when she hears Keith singing. Hunk cheers him on. Shiro nudges his shoulder playfully.

Keith hears the smile in Lance’s voice when they belt the chorus together.

 

 

(“Okay, Keith, so clearly _you_ have some grasp on what constitutes good music,” Lance says.

Keith rolls his eyes. “Clearly, you don’t.”

Lance feigns a hurt gasp, clutching at his chest through the screen. “Not you, too! You wound me so, Kogane.”

Keith huffs out a laugh. “You only sing bad 80’s songs, Lance.”

Keith doesn’t necessarily mean that. He doesn’t think Lance’s music taste is bad at all. But Pidge has already gotten Lance all riled up about it, and Keith loves instigating little fights with Lance anyway, because seeing Lance with a fire in his eyes is a sight that Keith will never tire of.

“First of all, there is literally no such thing as a bad 80’s song, so jot that down,” Lance says. “Second of all, my music taste is amazing, and I’m gonna prove it to you.”

Keith snorts. “How?”

Lance pauses for a moment, thinking. “I’m gonna sing you all of my favorite songs until you agree with me.”

Keith rolls his eyes, amused at Lance’s unwavering dedication to the task. “Okay. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Can you guys stop flirting over the main comm channel? We have private lines for a reason,” Pidge interjects.

“Shut up, Pidge,” They say in unison. Pidge huffs indignantly.)

 

* * *

 

One of the first stops the team makes at the beginning of their road trip in space is at a tiny department store planet, not dissimilar in appearance to the Space Mall. There are plenty of stores inside, ranging from clothing boutiques to home goods stores to an honest-to-God space Goodwill, which is filled to the brim with ugly hand-me-downs and odd alien trinkets.

They decide to stop there to get new clothes, seeing as the majority of their clothing was destroyed along with the castleship. Lance is the only one who had had the good sense to snatch his jacket and stuff it into his lion before the Castle had tragically exploded. He openly brags about it. Keith rolls his eyes, but silently mourns the loss of his own red cropped jacket.

Walking into a Space Goodwill in full paladin armor is less than ideal, Keith thinks, as he tries to ignore the stares of the random aliens who are browsing in the various sections of the store. A song that sounds suspiciously like a One Direction song plays softly over the store’s intercom. Lance immediately starts humming along, to the surprise of no one. Keith wonders if he is even unfamiliar with any single song--if maybe Lance just stores the lyrics and rhythms of every song he hears somewhere in his head until he needs them later.

Lance and Keith split from the rest of the group and go to browse in the store’s sweater section, because they are both apparently aware that nothing in the world is funnier than the sweater section of a thrift store, and they are both in need of a good laugh right now.

As soon as Keith pulls the first sweater off the rack, he wants to cry. There are so many God-awful, ugly sweaters, and Keith thinks they’re even funnier than the ones they would find down on Earth, because they all have an extra set of arm holes, and they say funny things like _“What Happens on Glaxxys Stays On Glaxxys!”_ What did happen on Glaxxys, Keith wonders. Was it memorable enough to proudly emblazon on a homemade chartreuse turtleneck sweater?

Halfway into their sweater search, Lance gasps and turns to Keith, holding up a bright orange jacket. “Keith, look,” He says. His tone is urgent, but Keith can see the laughter in his eyes. He cautiously walks over to Lance, and takes a closer look at the jacket, and--

“Is that Naruto Uzumaki’s fucking jacket,” He asks, voice deadpan. Lance erupts into giggles. An elderly alien women side eyes them with three pairs of eyes, but continues to look through the store’s selection of hideous blouses.

“Yes!” Lance cries. “Yes, it is Naruto Uzumaki’s jacket, holy shit.” The jacket is just like the one from the anime, orange and blue with the white collar and the red insignia on the back. Lance stares at it for a few moments, and then looks up into Keith’s eyes with a fierce determination. “I need it.”

“No, please do not buy that, Lance,” Keith begs. He decides he is not above begging when it comes to something as serious as Lance buying a jacket from an anime. “I will never be able to look at you the same way. Your reputation will be tainted forever.”

Lance raises a brow. “Well, Keith, seeing as you immediately recognized the jacket as belonging to Naruto, you’re just as guilty of the same anime crimes that I am.”

“What the hell was I supposed to do when I lived in the desert for a whole year,” Keith hisses, probably sounding way too defensive for his own good. “Not watch anime?”

“I think I walked into this conversation at the wrong time.” Hunk interjects, popping up from behind a rack of jeans and joining Lance and Keith. His eyes catch on the jacket Lance is holding, then widen in understanding.

“Lance, no,” He says automatically.

“Lance, yes,” Lance responds, taking the jacket off of the hanger and pulling it on over his armor. Keith grimaces. Lance grins.

“It really makes you think,” Hunk says after a moment of staring in horror at Lance flexing and posing in the ugly orange jacket. “Do they have anime in space? Did they somehow pirate Naruto and translate it into a thousand different alien languages? Or did this one Naruto jacket just make its way from Earth up into the depths of the universe, only to be shoved onto a clearance rack at the space equivalent of a Goodwill?”

“Hunk, please,” Keith says. He is so tired.

Without warning, Lance turns around and starts to fucking Naruto run right there in the middle of the store. Keith groans as he watches Lance take off down the aisle, most likely with the intention of harassing their other team members. A few ticks pass, and he hears Pidge erupt into unintelligible yells a couple of aisles over as Lance presumably crosses her path. Distantly, Shiro pleads for him to _Take the Jacket Off, Lance,_ and _For the Love of God, Please Do Not Buy That._

Lance returns after a few moments, mischief in his eyes as he runs up to Keith. He gets down on his knees in the blink of an eye and grabs Keith’s hand, clutching onto it while staring up and into Keith’s face with bright eyes.

“Keith,” He says, expression completely serious once again as his eyes bore into Keith’s. He has a freckle on the very tip of his nose. Keith ignores the blush rising in his cheeks. “Will you be the Sasuke to my Naruto?”

“I hate you,” Keith says decidedly. Lance laughs, turning his face into Keith’s palm and placing his lips in its center. Before he can even react, Lance is standing up again, and Keith tries to ignore his furious blush, but all he can do is lean into Lance’s space and hide his face in the collar of Lance’s ugly fucking Naruto jacket. Lance laughs again, and it’s the most beautiful sound Keith has ever heard. Besides his singing. But that’s besides the point.

Lance ends up leaving the Space Goodwill without the Naruto jacket, but he’s not upset, because he has an armful of other clothes and an hand on Keith’s shoulder. He hums the suspicious-sounding One Direction song that had been playing in the store. Keith tries to ignore how warm he feels.

 

* * *

 

For whatever reason, the planets they stop at on their road trip back to Earth are by far the most colorful and vibrant ones Keith has seen yet, even with his two years spent travelling in space and visiting various galaxies with both Voltron and the Blade of Marmora.

Somewhere in the depths of an unknown system in a foreign quadrant, the paladins are hopelessly and irredeemably lost. Shiro, Krolia and Allura try to figure out where the hell they are, using the Lion’s maps to try to find a way back home, but they haven’t recorded this section of the galaxy in the castle’s database, meaning that none of the lions have it, either. There is no way to know for sure where they are, without asking someone for directions. So Coran suggests that they fly down to the nearest habitable planet and try to sort things out with the planet’s inhabitants.

Rexxia, the first planet they come across, is freezing cold and windy as hell, but incredibly beautiful and endlessly appealing. Tiny towns and villages dot the countryside, all coated in a heavy white sheet of snow and ice. A light flurry of snowflakes falls from the sky.

Keith feels ill-prepared for the onslaught of cold that assaults him as soon as he steps out of Black and into the frigid air. They all neglected to put on their paladin armor, because the armor was starting to feel uncomfortable as hell after all of that time wearing it in the lions, instead opting to wear their new Space Goodwill finds.

In just his thin coat, Keith’s teeth begin to chatter almost immediately after the air hits his skin, and Shiro tuts and lectures him about how he should have purchased a thicker jacket from the Space Goodwill, and all Keith can think about is how warm he would be if he was currently wearing that Naruto jacket. Fuck.

Everyone else looks adequately dressed. They all wear layers and thicker coats, color coded like their paladin armor, because that’s just what they do now, apparently. Pidge and Hunk wear matching puffy jackets, respectively green and yellow in color. Allura has on a pastel pink parka, and the fur lined hood looks so cozy and warm as it surrounds her face and mixes into her curls. Allura looks like she is made for the winter. Keith is envious, but he’s not sure of what.

On their way into the frozen little town at the heart of the planet, Lance mosies over to Keith and smiles a crooked smile at him. “Looking a little cold there, Mullet,” He says, bumping Keith’s shoulder.

He’s wearing a puffy blue jacket just like Pidge and Hunk’s, and a hat with a pom pom on it, and his cheeks are rosy, and Keith thinks he’s absolutely the cutest thing he’s ever seen, right next to Kosmo when he comes out of a bath all fluffy and soft. Lance looks just as soft. Keith wants to bury his face in Lance’s neck and breath in the smell of him.

Keith frowns and stuffs his hands further into his pockets instead. “I’m not used to this,” He says. “I’ve never lived anywhere cold before.”

Lance snorts. “Me neither.”

They continue walking, side by side at the back of the group. Lance is humming a tune, something that sounds like Whitney Houston’s _I Wanna Dance With Somebody_. Their shoulders brush on the entire way there, and Keith doesn’t do anything to stop them. At least the contact provides some warmth.

The town is isolated and lonely but not completely dead. Small houses are clustered together to form narrow winding cobblestoned streets. Paper lanterns hang from balconies, and music echoes from open windows. There is a warm filter over everything, despite the freezing cold atmosphere. Rexxia seems to be a peaceful planet, completely untouched by the war, and Keith feels an indescribable feeling clutch at his chest at the thought of all of the other planets that weren’t so lucky to escape the clutches of the Galra.  

Fat snowflakes fall at a slow pace, and some of them land in the curls that escape Lance’s hat. One even lands on his eyelash. Keith can’t stop stealing glances at him. Even if Lance was seemingly born to bask in the warmth of a blazing sun, Keith can’t help but think that winter’s colors suit him incredibly well.

They stop as Coran attempts to negotiate directions out of the first Rexxian they come across. It is a difficult process because the Rexxians are a nonverbal race and speak solely through hand gestures, and Coran is clearly rusty on his _ASL_ (Altean Sign Language) as he moves his hands in vague foreign motions. The small Rexxian looks on in confusion, seemingly trying to decipher Coran’s hand gestures. It doesn’t look like this conversation is going anywhere.

Keith shivers and rubs his own hands together. He wistfully thinks about his gloves. They were fingerless, but they probably could have done something to abate the cold. Now his knuckles and the tips of his fingers are turning white from the freezing temperatures.

Then, with no warning, Lance grabs Keith’s hands and brings them up to his face. He tilts his face and blows his warm breath across Keith’s knuckles. His eyes are cast downwards and the snowflake from before is still caught in his eyelash. (Keith can’t help but wonder--Does Rexxian snow even melt like Earth’s snow does? Or will that one snowflake just be stuck in Lance’s eyelash until he has to remove it? Keith kinda wants to kiss it away.)

Lance stops blowing his breath across Keith’s knuckles, but he doesn’t let go of his hands; instead, he holds them to his chest.

“...What’re you doing?” Keith asks slowly.

“Keeping your hands warm, doofus,” Lance says. “You freezing your ass off out here is karma for not letting me get the Naruto jacket.”

Keith snorts. “Will you ever let that go?”

Lance says, with a scoff, “Never. I will use it to guilt trip you as long as I can.”

Keith shakes his head. Lance has inched closer to Keith. Keith can see the way the flush on Lance’s cheeks brings out his freckles and sun spots. “You’re insufferable,” He says. He doesn’t mean it.

“Only for you, Sunshine.”

“Alright! This Rexxian fellow here has told me that we’re heading in the right direction!” Coran says excitedly, bursting the bubble that Keith hadn’t even realized surrounded him and Lance. “We just have to fly straight past Trexxyz and make a right at the Lumia’an Belt, and we should be well on our way!”

Keith wonders how Coran even managed to get that information out of the Rexxian. Lance, regrettably, drops Keith’s hands. Keith does note that they feel warmer, though, and his knuckles are only a bright red instead of the scary stark white like they were before.

On their way back to their Lions, as they gear up for a long flight after this brief detour, Lance continues to hum Whitney Houston, and his shoulder still brushes against Keith’s.

 

 

(Before they reach the lions, Keith may or may not start an all out snowball fight by shoving snow down the hood of Lance’s jacket for no reason other than the fact that he wants to. Hunk yells, “Snowball fight!” And suddenly they’re not legendary defenders of the universe, anymore; they’re just kids, pelting each other with snowballs, and laughing out loud, and shouting incoherently. Shiro even joins in, much to the surprise of everyone. Allura, being the incredibly competitive person that she is, takes the fight very seriously, and she teams up with Romelle and Hunk in taking everyone down. They chuck snowballs at Keith, and he knows he's gonna be bruised all over after this, but he can't bring himself to care, because he is having so much fun. Keith throws a snowball right at Shiro's head and he can't stop laughing when it hits him square in the face.

At one point, Lance, who had most likely been plotting his revenge against Keith since the beginning of the fight, yells and charges at Keith, tackling him to the ground and sinking with him in the thick snow.

Keith is absolutely freezing, and his clothes are soaked through, but Lance’s weight is on top of him, and his face is very close to Keith’s, and he is laughing, the sound high and loud and carrying in the brisk wind.

His eyes shine with happiness.

His rosy cheeks stretch with his grin.

The snowflake is still caught in his eyelash.

Keith stares.

And stares.

And stares.

And falls even further than he thought he possibly could.)

 

* * *

 

Keith decides that his favorite planet is Zyrillion, one of the more industrialized planets that the team visits. He likes it because it is just like Earth, with large cities and warm skies, but everything is slightly off--there is an almost neon like quality to all of the colors, and everything looks and smells deep-fried, and there is, of course, a wide variety of alien life that populates the planet. Willowy aliens with six limbs, squat aliens with horns, and everything outside and in between walk the streets of the city, mixing and mingling together seamlessly.

They had planned on just stopping for the night, to find a place to rest and regroup before the next stretch of their journey. But when they land, everyone immediately wants to explore the pulsing city thrumming with neon nightlife.

The day is just turning, the sky bleeding from orange to red, and Keith wonders how long their nights last here, in this bustling city on this hazy planet. It feels like it could be forever.

Almost as soon as they breach the city, Pidge and Hunk find a huge electronics store full of advanced tech and cool gadgets, and dive right in. Before Hunk goes inside, Lance pulls him aside and whispers something in private to him, shy smile on his face. Hunk grins, nods conspiratorially, then waltzes inside the store as if nothing had happened. That’s definitely odd, Keith thinks.

Coran volunteers to go with the two of them, partially because he is intrigued by all of the tech, but also because the alien running the shop looks suspiciously like an Unilu. He steps into the store with a wink and a “Meet back at the lions in three vargas!” And then he is already haggling with the shop owner over a device that looks just like a pager.

The rest of the group continues on their journey, walking down winding streets and past shady alleyways. Allura and Romelle stop abruptly in front of a boutique window, gazing in awe at a beautiful sparkly gown on display just past the glass, and before Keith knows it, they are slipping inside, parting from the others with a brief “We’ll meet up with you all later!” from Allura. Keith sees Krolia look between the girls and the rest of the group. She looks conflicted.

Keith knows that Krolia has never really ever been given the chance to indulge herself and have fun--all her life, she has been tossed from planet to planet, going on innumerable dangerous missions, infiltrating and fighting and defending the universe against the Galra. Keith thinks that if anybody deserves a break, even if it’s just for a night, it’s her.

“Hey,” He tells her. “Go with them. Have fun. We’ll be fine.”

Krolia looks at him and  scans his face for a good solid moment, and then gives him a smile. She leans over and kisses the crown of his head, and then she is gone, joining up with Allura and Romelle inside the shop. She is gone with the nothing but the faint tinkling of the store’s bells signalling her absence.

It’s just Shiro, Lance, and Keith now, and a bit further down the street, Shiro is pausing in front of a shop that looks like it sells teas and various other meditative accoutrements.

He turns to Lance and Keith, who stare at him expectantly. “Okay. I’m gonna head in there. You guys are free to come with me and look at specialized teas for three vargas, or you can go do something else.”

Keith and Lance exchange a look. “Yeah, we’re gonna have to pass on that one, Shiro,” Lance says, trying to hide a grimace.

“That’s what I thought,” Shiro nods. “Just look, you two, don’t get into any trouble.” He stares at them both for a lingering moment, emphasizing the word trouble, as if that’s all Keith and Lance get up to when they are left alone. And then he opens the door to the shop and promptly disappears inside.

Keith turns to Lance. “Wanna get into some trouble?” He asks, unable to keep the giddy excitement that comes with disobeying the rules out of his voice.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Lance says. He offers his arm for Keith to take. Keith, of course, takes it.

They continue down the street.

 

 

They didn’t mean to get caught up in Zyrillion’s underground crime ring.

But here they are--and the situation is kind of difficult to explain--but Keith is speeding down the city streets on a motorbike that he may or may not have stolen and hotwired, and Lance is sitting behind him and clutching onto his waist with one arm. Alien mercenaries shoot at them from close behind, following them on their own bikes, and Keith weaves in and out of different lanes of traffic to evade their fire. Lance shifts against his back, turns to face the mercenaries, and shoots his bayard. Keith hears the vague sound of an explosion from behind him. Lance whoops and hollers in his ear, and Keith smiles.

He doesn’t turn around.

 

 

So they show up at the lions two vargas late, jackets singed around the edges and knees scraped and hair unkempt messes. The sky is dark now, and Shiro is pacing outside of the Black Lion angrily, kinda like a parent waiting up for their kid who snuck out and stayed out past curfew.

“What was the one thing I told you not to do?” Shiro demands as they finally approach him. He sounds tired; the type of indignant weariness that comes with having to deal with two rambunctious and rebellious teenagers such as Lance and Keith.

“Get into trouble,” They mutter in response.

“And what did you two do?”.

“...Get into trouble.”

“I can’t handle this,” Shiro says. He plops down onto Black’s paw, letting out a weary sigh. “I’m going into early retirement. If you need me, I’ll be back in the infinity of Voltron’s inner quintessence. Don’t wake me up this time.”

And, God--it really shouldn’t be funny at all, but Keith can’t help it--he giggles, a small sound that he can no longer contain, which soon evolves into him full on laughing. Then Lance joins in, and then they are both laughing, and Shiro looks on in his signature exasperation.

“Keith,” Shiro says, a warning. Keith keeps laughing despite it; he even snorts once or twice, which sends Lance into an even deeper laughing fit.

“Akira, I swear--”

Shiro launches himself at Keith and grapples him into a headlock, but the tiredness has dissipated from his face, and he’s laughing with Lance and Keith now. Lance meets Keith’s eyes, nothing short of happiness coating his face. His eyes shine with it.

 

 

(Later, when they’re about to split to go into their separate lions, Lance turns to Keith and says, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Not bad for a first date, huh?”

And Keith is utterly unprepared to hear those words coming from Lance’s mouth, especially with the sincerity and genuineness that Lance says them with.

“What?” Keith says dumbly, but Lance is already turning to leave, and Keith takes note of the unusual spring in his step and the way he sends a look over his shoulder that Keith can’t decipher.

Keith stands there for doboshes outside of his lion, and just thinks.

He thinks, _Fuck_.

 _I am so whipped._ )

 

* * *

 

The diner that they stop at one evening is everything Keith had thought a typical diner might look like, if it were on Earth during the 50’s and everyone was about to start singing _Summer Lovin_ ’. There is checkered flooring and neon pink lighting and an actual jukebox in the back, right next to a rusty pinball machine and an arcade game that looks vaguely like Pac Man. Smells of deep fried foods waft through the air, and a song in a language that Keith had never heard before plays softly. The windows are open, and the evening is almost over. The sky outside is a soft orange.

Lance leads the group to a large booth in the back, the one closest to the jukebox. Keith suspects that it’s because he wants to pick the next song. Lance slides in and everyone else follows suit, all chatting about the diner food as they pick up their menues, and how this alien diner differs from the ones typical of Earth.

Hunk asks, “What’s Fozzenberry Pie?” When Coran mentions it briefly, and that question earns him a bunch of startled gasps from the Alteans at the table, which then leads to an in-depth discussion on what types of pies Earth has, and Hunk describes them all in great detail, and the Alteans listen with rapt attention.

Keith is sitting next to Lance. Their thighs are pressed together underneath the table. Lance moves his arm to rest on the back of the booth, behind Keith’s head. Keith may or may not lean into Lance’s space.

“You ever been to a diner like this before?” Lance asks quietly, head tilted toward Keith.

Keith snorts. “Too many times,” He says. Lance raises a brow, and Keith thinks he’s going to ask about it; ask about all of the times Keith had been taken to a shitty diner by a social worker that was assigned to his case and given a melty fudge sundae as a peace offering before he was shipped off to the next foster family.

“Cool. Wanna split a milkshake?” Lance asks instead, in that calm and curious way that he has about him. Keith relaxes. But then his heart rate picks up a bit, because--because he’s not completely oblivious, and he knows that the activity of splitting a milkshake is usually considered a thing only couples do. And him and Lance aren’t a couple.

(A part of his brain is asking, “Are you sure?” As if Keith is incapable of distinguishing his romantic relationships from his platonic ones, which he absolutely isn’t; Lance is just a special case, treading the line that narrowly separates the words “boy” and “friend” so carelessly that Keith can’t even try to smack a label on the thing they have between them. So no, he isn’t sure. Whatever.)

“Sure. But only if we get chocolate,” Keith says, ignoring his own dramatic inner monologue in favor of thinking about the actual milkshake itself. It’s been a while since he’s had a chocolate milkshake.

Lance frowns and leans forward. “No, no, no. We have to get vanilla. That way we can dip the fries into the milkshake. You can’t do that with chocolate.”

Keith clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Who says?”

“Uh, me?” Lance asserts. Keith rolls his eyes.

“What are you, the Milkshake Police?”

Lance furrows his brows and opens his mouth to respond, most likely about to say something along the lines of _Bitch I might be_ , when Pidge interjects.

“You guys don’t know if they have chocolate or vanilla, or if they even have milkshakes at all. This is an alien diner,” She says, ever the voice of reason.

“Shut up, Pidge,” They both say in unison. Pidge scoffs then turns back to continue her conversation with Allura.

“Okay, how about this,” Lance says conspiratorially. “We get chocolate this time, even though I don’t think we should, because I like you too much for my own good. And then, next time, I’ll take you out to a diner and we get vanilla and you aren’t allowed to complain once.”

_I like you too much for my own good. Next time. I’ll take you out._

Is he asking Keith out on a date?

Keith pretends to mull it over. “Hm. Fine,” He relents. “But only because I also like you too much for my own good.”

Lance’s smile is radiant under the pink neon lights.

A waitress with four arms comes around and regrettably informs them that she has no idea what chocolate is, and Allura and Coran point out the flavors that might be most similar to Earth’s chocolate, and Lance and Keith have to settle for that. Neither of them really mind, though.

The song on the jukebox ends and Lance crawls over everyone in the booth to get to it next and pick a song. Romelle and Allura go with him to help translate the selection of songs they have, and Keith looks at the three of them. Lance is wearing jeans that are cuffed at the ankles and a thin cotton t-shirt, and despite Romelle and Allura’s matching cotton candy-colored pastel outfits which meld perfectly with the diner’s aesthetic, Keith can’t keep his eyes off of him. How anyone can look so effortlessly good in just jeans and a t-shirt is beyond Keith.

Of course, as soon as Lance punches a button, some 80’s sounding synth-y pop song comes blaring out of the jukebox. At this point, Keith remains unsurprised at the consistency of Lance’s music taste. Lance climbs over everyone again to get back to his spot next to Keith in the booth, and he looks incredibly happy with himself as the terrible song continues to play.

The waitress comes back with all of their drinks, setting the milkshake down in front of Lance and Keith, and it looks just like a chocolate milkshake from Earth. Keith takes the first sip, then offers it to Lance.

As Lance takes it, his foot kicks at Keith’s playfully underneath the shiny chrome table, and Keith kicks back, and then they are engaged in an intense game of footsie that nobody else seems to notice except for Pidge, who shoots them a dirty look every time they swing their feet too close to her own. Lance just sticks his tongue out at her and swings his own foot even harder, and when he accidentally kicks too hard and jostles the table and sends a glass of ice water spilling over onto his shirt, Keith laughs so hard that the milkshake almost comes out of his nose.

Lance complains loudly about his shirt, which is totally soaked through, and before Keith knows it he is shrugging off the red sweatshirt that he bought from the Space Goodwill and offering it to Lance. Lance looks at it for a moment, then smiles and pulls it on.

He wears it for the rest of the night, and then the next quintant, and then the next.

He never gives it back.

 

* * *

 

In the clearing of a nameless planet with a breathable atmosphere, Hunk is telling a scary story to everyone, gathered around a blazing campfire. Lance, sitting next to Keith, has long since given up on roasting the alien equivalent of marshmallows that they got earlier in their trip, and now stuffs them into his mouth at an ungodly rate. Pidge does the same. Allura, Romelle and Coran give their full attention to Hunk. Shiro is probably asleep, judging by the way he leans heavily against the tree trunk he is propped up against, head lolled back and mouth open.

Lance has stopped eating the weird marshmallows in favor of poking at the fire with a stick. He looks calm, face relaxed. His tongue pokes out slightly between his teeth. His eyes are reflecting the oranges and yellows of the flames. He is an awe-inspiring sight.

He hums _Come on Eileen_ under his breath, just quiet enough for it not to be heard over Hunk’s voice. For whatever reason, Keith has always hated that song. It was way too upbeat and catchy and when he heard it come on on the old radio in his shack, it would be stuck in his head for days, which was annoying.

Oddly enough, he doesn’t hate it when Lance hums it.

Keith itches and twitches as he watches Lance continue to poke at the fire. His hands feel empty.

Then they're lurching out, and--he almost chickens out, almost pulls his hand back because of how nervous he is. But he steels himself, sets his jaw, and reaches out to take Lance’s hand in his own.

It feels so natural to be able to weave his fingers into Lance’s, interlock them and squeeze Lance’s big calloused palm with his own. Lance looks up, eyes wide, the fire still forming something like constellations in his irises.

And, oh God, Keith wants to kiss him.

He knows this with the all the certainty in the entire universe. He knows that he could wake up tomorrow morning with no memory of who he is or how he came to be on this remote alien planet thousands of light years away from home, and he would still know that he wants to kiss Lance. It is something set deep in his bones, something that thrums within his bloodstream and echoes with the sound of Lance’s laugh and Lance’s grumbles and Lance’s songs.

He stares at Lance. Lance stares back. The moment feels like Keith’s own piece of eternal paradise.

Then Lance looks away. But he squeezes Keith’s hand, to let him know that he’s still there.

Keith squeezes back.

 

 

Later that night, curled up in a sleeping bag in the very same clearing, Lance whispers, “Hey, Hunk. Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Hunk says immediately.

Keith raises an eyebrow. “Really, Hunk? Truth?”

“You don’t understand, Keith,” Hunk says. “You’ve never played Truth or Dare with Lance. Choosing dare is practically guaranteeing public humiliation.”

Pidge hums in affirmation. Both her and Hunk have faraway looks in their eyes, as if recalling traumatizing experiences from their pasts. Lance snickers. Shiro snores from his sleeping bag.

“Okay,” Lance takes a moment to think. “What is the best prank you’ve ever pulled?”

“That one time I built a Roomba and then taped all of Keith’s knives to it? That was my peak,” Hunk says. He is curled up in his sleeping bag next to Keith. Keith nods in agreement, remembering the Alteans’ shrieks of horror as the Roomba slowly moved around the lounge of the castleship, various knives taped to it and pointed threateningly in all different directions. Allura had destroyed it with her bayard before it could do any real damage, much to the disappointment of all of the humans on the castleship. Even Shiro had been rooting for the Roomba.

Allura scoffs. “I will never forgive you for that, Hunk.”

“What is a ‘Roomba’?” Romelle asks quietly.

“A device created by humans with the sole intent of wreaking havoc and causing destruction. It is sentient and evil,” Allura says with a shudder. Romelle shivers and burrows further into her sleeping bag. Lance has to stifle his laughs.

“Okay, Hunk, it’s your turn,” Lance says.

“Alright. Pidge, truth or dare?” Hunk whispers.

Pidge hums. “Truth. But only because it’s really warm in my sleeping bag and I don’t want to have to get out to do whatever stupid shit you’re going to dare me to do.”

Hunk nods. “That’s fair. Uh,” He thinks. “What is the first thing you want to do when we get back home?”

Pidge says, “Skin the fur off of a furby.”

Silence. Keith has to take a moment to process that.

Then, “This is why Shiro doesn’t fucking love you, Pidge,” Lance whisper-shouts. “Who the fuck does that? What the fuck?”

“Listen, Lance, we don’t have an alien equivalent to coffee up here in space, which sucks ass, and I’m tired and running on, like, three hours of sleep all of the fucking time, and I just want to go home. If I have the occasional intrusive impulse to do some crazy shit like skin a furby then like, whatever,” She says. “Also Shiro loves me so much. I’m his favorite so I don’t think he would mind if I skinned a furby. And softhacked its circuits.”

“What the fuck. Keith? Back me up, here,” Lance says.

Keith shrugs. “I think she is Shiro’s favorite, Lance.” Which basically means that she can get away with whatever the hell she wants without facing the same consequences as everyone else. He can feel Lance’s pout from where he is laying down next to Keith.

“What is a furby? Is that some sort of animal from Earth?” Allura asks.

Hunk shakes his head. “It’s better if you don’t know, Princess. They’re just as evil as Roombas.”

Allura furrows her brow and mutters something under her breath.

“Romelle, truth or dare?” Pidge asks.

Allura makes a tutting noise. “I regret to inform you that Romelle is fast asleep.” This is punctuating by Romelle making a deep snoring sound. Keith lets out a chuckle.

“Ah. Okay. Lance?”

Lance sits up and narrows his eyes at Pidge. His hair is all mussed, and his eyes are droopy. He looks all sleepy and cuddly and warm, his guard down and his posture relaxed. “Normally I would pick dare. But I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you, Pigeon, so I’m going to go with truth.”

“Sounds about right,” She says. “Okay… If you were in the movie _Pacific Rim_ , who would you be drift compatible with?”

Allura makes a noise of confusion at the reference to Earthen pop culture.

Hunk says, “That’s an oddly specific question, but I like it.”

“Keith,” Lance inputs almost immediately and with no hesitation, and wow, okay--Keith can see it--the two of them, piloting a giant robot _Jaeger_ together to fight off the alien _Kaiju_ , so synced up that they can read each other’s thoughts and predict each other’s actions, acting as two halves of one whole.

Keith definitely has never thought about this before.

“What?” Pidge says. She sounds shocked. “Why Keith?”

“I don’t know. I just feel like we’re always on the same page. I don’t have to talk all of the time for him to know how I’m feeling. He just gets me.”

Keith smiles a soft smile at Lance. Lance grins back. Hunk coughs into his fist. Allura sighs dreamily. Pidge mutters, “Right in front of my salad?”

Lance says, “Anyway, truth or dare, Mullet?”

“Dare.”

Lance grins. “Nice. Okay. I dare you to…” He pauses for a moment and thinks, giving Keith a once-over. His eyes stop at Keith’s head. “Let me do whatever I want to your hair.”

“No way.”

“You chose dare, Keith. Are you gonna back out now?” Lance taunts, pausing for dramatic effect. “Are you a _chicken_ or something?”

Keith scowls. He thinks for a moment. “No cutting it,” He relents.

“I wasn’t planning on it. Although you would look pretty badass with an undercut,” Lance says.

Keith crawls out of his sleeping bag and over to where Lance is sitting up and wiggling his fingers in anticipation. He sighs wearily.

“You should be grateful, Keith,” Hunk says. “This is a relatively non-humiliating dare. You’re lucky Lance is going easy on you.”

“Princess, do you have any hair ties?” Lance asks, ignoring Hunk’s comment.

“Why, of course. I always have at least three on me,” She says, pulling them off of her wrist and tossing them over to Lance. They are the big scrunchie kind, and pastel pink in color. Keith is already regretting this.

“How do you feel about french braids, Keith?” Lance asks, humor in his voice. Keith grumbles unintelligibly in response. “Honestly, it doesn’t matter, because I’m doing them anyway.”

He forces Keith into a sitting position, and then gets on his knees behind him so that he has a better view of Keith’s head. He starts out by raking his fingers through Keith’s hair, pulling out any knots and tangles that his fingers come across.

“This would be better if I had a brush with me, but alas, I do not. And I’m not making the trip into Red to get one, so you’re just gonna have to deal with my fingers.”

Keith grunts and tries to pretend like he’s not enjoying the feeling of Lance running his hands through his hair from his roots down to his split ends. Lance parts Keith’s hair right down the middle and separates it into two sections, and Keith must admit... It’s nice. He may or may not let out a soft sigh at the feeling.

“This is oddly sensual,” Pidge remarks offhandedly in the silence. “I’m going to bed before you two end up making out.”

Lance chokes and Keith rolls his eyes as Pidge faceplants into her pillow and falls asleep in under twenty seconds. That’s a new record.

After that Hunk begins a quiet one-sided discussion with Allura about the movie _Pacific Rim_ and the wonders it did for the LGBT community. Allura isn’t completely aware of what either of those things are, but she listens patiently and nods at all of the correct places in the conversation. Keith chimes in occasionally, because he deems himself to be an expert in the topic. Lance concentrates on french-braiding the right side of Keith’s head, uncharacteristically quiet in the moment.

Eventually, Allura stops responding to Hunk’s words, and Keith sees her eyes close and mouth part with her deep and even breaths. Hunk stops talking, and lets out a yawn.

“Hey, Keith,” Hunk says suddenly, after a couple of moments of silence pass. “I’ve always wondered. How did you get booted from the Garrison?”

Keith doesn’t respond at first, attempting to formulate his thoughts, recalling all those years ago when the news of the Kerberos mission’s failure first broke. All that Keith could focus on at the time was the vast hopelessness he felt, and the immeasurable anger that was being pent up inside of him.

“You don’t have to answer, man. I’m just curious, I guess,” Hunk says.

“I punched Iverson in the face after I heard what happened on the Kerberos Mission,” Keith blurts. Hunk’s eyes widen in surprise.

“That’s crazy,” He says. “You just straight up punched him in the face? Weren’t you worried about getting kicked out? How did you plan on becoming a pilot? What about your education and stuff?”

“Academia is fake and you can only trust your fists,” Keith says in response, because he’d rather quote a meme right now than answer those questions honestly.

“Holy shit,” Lance says under his breath from behind Keith. He sounds a little flustered. Hunk laughs.

“That’s the spirit! Okay. I’m going to go to bed now. No tomfoolery, you two,” Hunk says, pointing at the both of them in turn before tucking himself neatly into his sleeping bag and closing his eyes.

“I don’t know what that means,” Keith mutters. He gets no response. Lance is almost finished with one of the braids. He continues to weave Keith’s hair together, and a comfortable silence ensues, one that is only disrupted by the occasional snore from either Romelle or Shiro.

As Lance moves onto the left side of Keith’s head, he starts to hum to himself. Keith listens closely, trying to figure out what song it is. It is unfamiliar to him, but he becomes blissfully lost in the vibrations of Lance’s voice.

Lance scoots closer as he finishes up the second braid, going from his kneeling position to sitting, legs spread out on either side of Keith’s body. He ties off the braid, and then pulls at both of them, fussing over them for a bit. Keith lets him because he doesn’t remember the last time anyone has played with his hair like this, and it feels nice. His eyes are heavy with sleep.

After a few moments, Lance finally pulls his hands away, and Keith makes a noise of frustration before leaning back and relaxing into Lance’s chest, chasing the contact with Lance’s body. He isn’t usually this shameless, but honestly, when it comes to Lance, anything is up in the air--and the warmth and solidity of Lance’s broad chest just feels so _nice_ , something Keith’s touch-starved body can’t help but crave.

Lance melts into Keith’s body in return, winding his arms around Keith’s torso and letting out a soft sigh.

“What song were you humming?” Keith whispers. Lance nuzzles his face into the place where Keith’s shoulder meets his neck, where his oversized sleep shirt has slid down a bit.

“ _Starman_ ,” Lance says. His fingers trace a patch of exposed skin on Keith’s hip. “David Bowie. You like him?”

“I never really listened to his music,” Keith admits.

Lance’s breaths are warm puffs against Keith’s neck. He sighs deeply. “You should. I think you would like him.”

Keith hums. He leans further into Lance’s chest and brings a hand up to rest on top of Lance’s. “You’ll have to sing me one of his songs sometime, then.”

“Okay,” Lance whispers, and turns his face and places a kiss on the side of Keith’s neck, right underneath his ear. “Whenever you want.”

“Is this what Hunk meant by tomfoolery?” Keith asks. He feels like he could fall asleep right where he is because he is so comfortable.

Lance snuggles closer. “Probably, but I don’t care.” He pauses. “...Do you?”

Keith scoffs. “‘Course not.”

“Cool.” Lance says. He kisses Keith’s neck again, and then again, and this time his lips linger. Keith laughs quietly and pushes Lance’s face away.

“Stop, you need to shave. Your stubble is all scratchy,” Keith says. Lance pauses, looks at him for a moment, and then immediately tightens his hold on Keith and buries his face into his neck, rubbing his stubble across Keith’s skin. It takes everything in Keith not to shout.

“ _Lance_ ,” He hisses, but he knows he has a smile on his face, and that he doesn’t sound as angry as he’d like to, and Lance continues to nuzzle his face into the side of Keith’s neck. It’s scratchy and it kinda tickles and Keith wants to laugh so bad, but he can’t risk waking the others up, so he suppresses his laughter instead, and let’s it bubble within his chest like fizzy champagne.

Lance grins into his neck. “I’m sorry, what was that? It sounded like you said, ‘Wow, Lance, your stubble makes you look so manly and hot’.”

“Absolutely not,” Keith replies, but his tone betrays his real feelings. His fingers tighten on Lance’s from where they are wrapped around Keith’s waist, and they stay like that for a little bit, basking in the contact. Keith’s eyes start to feel real heavy.

“We should probably go to bed now,” Lance murmurs, low voice in Keith’s ear. “You’re about to fall asleep right here.”

Keith lets out a subdued yawn. “Would that really be such a bad thing?” He asks. “Maybe I want to fall asleep right here.”

Keith isn’t usually this forward, either. God, what is Lance doing to him?

Lance chuckles, a low noise. “C’mon, babe, we have to get up early tomorrow. We’re gonna be on the road all day.”

 _Babe_.

“I hate it when you’re right,” He relents. Keith reluctantly pushes himself away from Lance’s warm, comfortable body and crawls back into his sleeping bag. Lance does the same. They face each other, though, and Keith’s eyes trace the curls on Lance’s head, the freckles on his cheeks, the curves of and angles of his face and neck.

“G’night, Lance,” Keith says, slipping further and further into unconsciousness.

“Goodnight, Starlight,” Lance whispers in return.

 

* * *

 

When Lance’s face pops up on Keith’s screen mid-flight the following quintant, he is lounging in the pilot’s chair of his lion, hair pushed back with a headband and facemask on. Keith squints. He is wearing Keith’s red sweatshirt that he never returned from that time they went to the diner, and dark blue star printed boxers, and… Glasses?

“Since when did you have glasses?” Keith questions immediately. Lance shrugs. The square frames glint in the lighting of his lion.

“Since forever,” He says. “I just never wear them. They’re more for reading and stuff. Not really meant for defending the universe.”

Keith can’t stop staring. “You look good in them,” He says, because he is a dumbass and his brain is currently short-circuiting over the sight of Lance in fucking glasses. “You should wear them more often.”

Lance smiles. “You don’t look too bad yourself, Kogane. You still have your braids in.”

“I like them,” Keith says self-consciously, running a hand over the braids. “You should braid my hair more often. If you don’t mind.”

“‘Course I don’t mind,” Lance says softly. Then, with a grin, “Anything to get rid of that mullet.”

“Insult my hair one more time and I’m hanging up,” Keith threatens, pointing a finger at Lance through the screen. Lance just laughs. His nose scrunches up and the glasses slip down the bridge of his nose, and the sight nearly sends Keith into cardiac arrest.

“I’m just joking, babe. I actually called with the intention of telling you something,” Lance says.

Keith’s heart does a somersault in his chest at the pet name. “Okay. Shoot.”

“I’ve decided,” Lance begins, confidence and excitement rolling off of him in steady waves. “That I’m going to make you the sickest mixtape ever in a declaration of my love to you.”

Oh.

And, okay, Keith can’t even bring himself to be blindsided by Lance’s words, because they have kinda been a long-time coming, even if Keith tried to ignore it--ignore the way Lance’s hands always found his own, the way his eyes always burn into Keith’s when they meet from across the room, the way that Lance’s voice calls out Keith’s name like a the bridge of a slow song--something smooth and melodic and unbearably soft. He is surprised by the bluntness of Lance’s words, sure, and awestruck by the conviction with which Lance says them. But he isn’t taken aback. Mostly, he just feels warm.

“Okay,” Keith says. He feels a smile slowly spread across his face. “Where did you come up with that idea?”

Lance shrugs. He looks a bit giddy. “I don’t know. I think my love for you is just an ‘ _I wanna make you playlists and sing to you and slow dance with you to soft music_ ’ kinda love.”

Keith’s face flushes. He feels all light and fluffy, like his heart is just going to keep expanding until it eventually bursts and leaks his love all over the place. Gross.

“How will you get the music? We’re in space right now,” He points out.

Lance’s eyes shine behind the tint of his glasses. “I have my ways, Kogane. They involve Pidge, her laptop, and a bribe of alien space coffee, but that’s none of your business.”

Keith smiles. “Okay.”

“Also, um.” Lance looks a bit sheepish. “I’ve kinda already started working on it. I just thought that I would let you know about it, because I feel like it’s okay to tell you now.”

“That makes sense,” Keith says. “I’m looking forward to getting it.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.” A pause. “Hey, Lance?”

“Hm?”

“I love you. A lot,” Keith admits, verbal filter out of the window.

Lance stares for a moment, eyes wide with surprise, and then--and then he smiles something bright and blinding. “I love you, too. A whole lot,” He says. “I kinda feel like jumping out of my lion so that I can get into Black and see you.”

Keith chuckles, shaking his head. “You can’t do that, Lance.”

Lance gets up anyway and puts on his helmet, right over his facemask and headband and glasses, because he is nothing if not ridiculous and over dramatic and unbearably charming, all at once. “Who says?” He exclaims, looking all the world like he’s about to jump out of the Red Lion in just his star-printed boxers and the red sweatshirt that he stole from Keith and his blue paladin helmet.

“I do,” Keith laughs. “Even if I really want to kiss you right now. You can’t.”

Lance groans. “Aw, c’mon Keith, you just said you wanted to kiss me!”

Keith raises a brow. “And what about it?”

“Loving you is a blessing and a curse,” Lance decides, plopping back into his chair and sliding his helmet off. “A blessing because you quote Ariana Grande memes to me, but a curse because you won’t let me fly out into open space to come kiss you.”

“Later,” Keith promises. “We can kiss later. And then you can sing me an Ariana Grande song. How does that sound?”

Lance sighs. “Perfect. That’s my ideal date, you know.”

“I know.”

Another pause.

“You really wanna kiss me, Kogane?” Lance asks, suddenly serious. His fingers twitch anxiously and his teeth gnaw at his bottom lip.

Keith looks at him through the screen, right into his blue-brown eyes. (He can never tell what color Lance’s eyes are--they always seem to be shifting and changing in the light, just like the inside of a kaleidoscope.) “Yeah,” He breathes. “Yeah. You just said you wanted to make me a mixtape in a declaration of your love to me. I want to kiss you so hard right now.”

Lance’s dimples are on full display. “Nice. The songs are all gonna be terrible cheesy 80’s ballads, just for you.”

“I expect nothing less,” Keith says softly.

They fill the rest of the flight with warm jokes and loving smiles.

 

* * *

 

Keith doesn’t get the chance to kiss Lance when they finally land, because Galra troopers intercept them on a tiny planet called Kaujeer, deep in the Zori’inian System. The system has been overrun by the Galra for deca-phoebs now, but the planets have been fighting back, staging rebellions and overthrowing Galra rule periodically.

Kaujeer is all clay oranges and reds, caked in dirt dust with no humidity in sight. The suns on the planet are bright but small, and cast beautiful lights and shadows onto everything they touch. This planet is a danger zone, and the Kaujeeri people seem to know this. They stay out of the paladins’ way from the moment they land in their lions to the moment they depart with a sense of finality. Keith hopes that he never has to return here.

In a bustling market at the heart of the city, the paladins scope out any goods, valuables, and foods to take with them on their journey, as they are in desperate need of restocking their resources. They are supposed to be treating this slight detour as a mission. The objective: get what they need for the next stretch of their long journey. The rules: be as low profile as possible. Don’t attract any unwanted attention. Get in and out, quick and efficient. Do not, under any circumstances, engage with any Galra.

As soon as they touch down, Keith knows that this isn’t going to go as planned at all.

Keith and Lance are alone together, because that’s just what they do now. Lance is so curious and intrigued by every little object and trinket he sees in each stall that Keith has to keep an insistent hand on the small of Lance’s back to keep him moving forward. There are so many stalls that Keith can hardly keep up; there are stalls with colorful headscarves, and stalls with refreshing lemon-y beverages, and stalls with special turquoise Kaujeeri jewelry.

Their comms buzz as Keith and Lance look at a stall that sells what appears to be packages of Kaujeeri junk food. Lance is inspecting a bag of something that looks just like Takis. “Be on the alert, paladins. Something is not right,” Allura’s voice sounds through their helmets.

Lance frowns, turning to Keith. “What do you mean, Princess?” He says into the comms.

“I have a bad feeling about this planet,” Allura says, and as soon as she speaks, there is a sudden shift in the air. Nobody else around them seems to notice it except for Keith--maybe it’s his heightened Galra senses or something, but there is an immediate tension that he can’t ignore. He straightens up and stiffens. Lance sends him a questioning look.

Something glints in Keith’s peripherals, and then he sees them--Galra sentries rapidly approaching, pushing through a throng of people violently. Of course, they are headed right toward Lance and Keith.

“Lance. Sentries.”

Lance turns and spots them, and all good-humored ease is erased off of his face. In the span of a second, Lance goes from a happy-go-lucky boy to a war-hardened soldier. The transformation is almost painful for Keith to watch.

They make eye contact, a silent reassurance, and then they both activate their bayards at the same time.

Lance mutters, “You ready, Samurai?” As he hefts his rifle and takes aim.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Sharpshooter,” Keith responds. He lifts his blade and launches himself at the sentries.

 

 

Keith takes a bullet for Lance.

It is an unthinking action; they are in the middle of a fight, Lance letting lose a barrage of bullets and Keith slashing through robots angrily; he sees the Galra sentry aim mechanically; sees the way Lance’s back is turned and exposed directly to the weapon’s fire; sees the sentry’s metal finger squeeze the trigger of it’s gun and shoot. Keith’s mind goes blank, and he can’t hear anything but static. He feels himself moving before he realizes what’s happening; feels his feet propelling himself forward at inhuman rates; feels his eyes narrow and yellow and his teeth sharpen as he yells Lance’s name; feels Lance’s smooth cracked armor underneath the palms of his gloved hands as he pushes up against Lance’s body, and takes his place.

The laser hits him right in his side, the fleshy part where his ribs meet his stomach, and immediately his body is screaming in searing pain. Still pushed up against Lance’s body, he thumps with the force of the bullet. He thinks he collapses into Lance. He hears someone say his name, but it is distant, almost inaudible. His vision blurs; somebody is saying his name again, screaming it; the world goes sideways, then black.

 

 

(Keith may be dreaming when he is under. He may see visions of an easy smile, of warm dark eyes, of thin bony fingers and long slender legs.

Everything is in shades of blue.

He is blue.

He is cornflower blue, because he is soft and deep and a little bit sad. Keith loves that shade of blue. Keith loves how it looks on him. He speaks in cornflower tones, and touches in cornflower bursts, and radiates waves of the most profound cornflower hues.

If somebody asked Keith what his favorite color is, it wouldn't be black, or even red; it would be soft, deep, sad, cornflower blue.)

 

 

When he wakes up, it’s to the sound of praying.

Keith can’t open his eyes, not yet; but as the feeling returns to his body, he begins to register where he is. He feels the sheets of a comfy cot beneath his body, feels the pulsing in his side and in his head, feels the hand that is clutching his own in a vice grip.

He squeezes the hand weakly, chasing its warmth. The praying stops, but not before Keith had vaguely registered it to be Lance’s voice--Lance’s beautiful voice reciting lines in perfect Spanish. They had sounded like words Keith knew; words that his father had taught him way back when Keith was a little boy with gaps in his teeth and scrapes on his knees; words like _Please_ and _You’re gonna be okay_ and _I’m sorry._

_I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry._

Melded together like that, in Lance’s melodic, wondrous voice, they sound like the echoes of a sad song.

The place where the bullet entered his body is no longer a white-hot jolt of pain like it had been before the world had gone dark, but rather a steady throb. Keith’s pulse thrums in time with its dull ache.

Keith steels himself, takes a deep breath, and opens his eyes.

He is in the Red Lion; he can tell by the lighting and the Lion’s interior. He is laying down on the cot they have set up in the back of the Lion, the one that Lance has been sleeping in throughout their journey, during the times when they weren’t able to stop on a planet and roll out their sleeping bags.

Romelle and Coran and Hunk and Pidge stand back at the room’s entrance and look on from a distance. They are trying to give him space, Keith can tell; but the looks on their faces make it clear that they desperately want to come closer, to make sure he’s okay.

Shiro stands at the foot of the bed, and lets out a sigh of relief as Keith’s hazy eyes meet his. His shoulders drop from where they were raised with tension, and the rigid line of his body relaxes. Keith knows that if Shiro didn’t already have a head of white hair, then he would definitely be getting some greys from the stunts Keith has been pulling. The look Shiro sends him tells him as much. Keith gives him a weak smile.  
Allura stands next to Keith’s side, hands and eyes fading with a glowing light blue. She must have been healing him just now, before he had awoken. Krolia stands next to her, arms crossed and face tight with worry.

And Lance. Lance kneels next to the bed, and grasps Keith’s right hand between his own. His eyes look puffy and his hair is unkempt, as if he has been running his hands through it. His paladin armor is all scuffed up and crusted with dried blood. Keith realizes that it is most likely his own; that after he had been shot, Lance had probably picked him up and carried him to the Red Lion, laying him down on this cot himself. The thought is deeply upsetting.

“What… What happened?” Keith asks. His voice is scratchy and hoarse and quiet.

Both Allura and Shiro open their mouths to respond, but Lance beats them to it. “You took a bullet for me, you fucking dumbass.” He isn’t yelling, and his voice is level, but the words are filled to the brim with anger. His eyes flash with hurt and worry. His hand is still holding Keith’s. “You took a bullet for me, and you almost died.”

Allura places a hand on Lance’s shoulder to calm him. Shiro steps in and takes over. “Keith, Lance isn’t wrong. You would have died if Allura wasn’t able to come as soon as she did.” His expression is stony. “The only reason why you’re okay now is because Allura was able to heal you with her alchemy.”

Keith turns to Allura. “Thank you,” He says. She gives him a small smile and nods.

Keith tries to sit up all of the way, but he is immediately taken over by pain, his side burning. He hisses and clutches at the place where he had been shot. Lance surges forward, hands floating above Keith’s injury as if he wants to do something about it, but knows that he can’t.

Allura grimaces in sympathy. “I apologize, Keith, but there is only so much I could have done with my alchemy. I was already so drained from the fight, so I was unable to heal you as much as I wanted to. You still have a bit of a wound, although it is no longer life-threatening. It will also most likely leave a scar.”

Keith processes all of this, then nods. “That’s okay. Are you alright, Princess?”

Lance makes a noise from next to him, and Keith looks over, and--and Lance’s eyes are all shiny and bright with unshed tears, and his nostrils are flaring, and his hands are shaking as they hold Keith’s.

“Hey,” Keith says softly. Lance’s face scrunches up. Keith reaches his other hand out, and brushes his fingers along the curve of Lance’s cheek, underneath his eye. Lance’s cheekbones and jawline are becoming more defined, and he’s losing the last of the baby fat in his cheeks. Keith can’t help but admire the way that the light catches on Lance’s bones and pools in his irises like the beginnings of a fire. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“Even after all that, you can’t stop worrying about other people,” Lance says, voice watery and angry as hot tears finally spill over. Keith stares, his heart sinking at the sight of Lance crying. There is nothing that Keith can think to say in this moment to console him. “Why are you such a stubborn, selfless jackass?”

“I thought I was doing the right thing--”

“Don’t start that bullshit, Keith. Did you even think about what it would do to me if we couldn’t bring you back? What it would do to Shiro? Krolia? The rest of your fucking team? What if Allura wasn’t able to get to you in time?”

“I’m sorry,” Keith whispers. The anger dissipates from Lance’s face.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” Lance breathes, blue-brown eyes urgent and intense. The words are quiet and meant just for Keith, despite the presence of everyone else in the room.

“Okay,” Keith whispers, pressing his palm into the hollow of Lance’s cheek. Lance leans into it.

“And don’t ever jump in front of a bullet for me again.”

“You know I can’t make that promise,” Keith says quietly.

Lance lets out a frustrated sigh. His eyebrows are furrowed. Keith wants to smooth them out. “I know. Because you’re so fucking stubborn. Of course you won’t promise. I figured I should at least try to get you to, anyway.”

Keith smiles. “You know me so well.”

“I’m going to kiss you now,” Lance says.

“Okay.”

Before anyone else can even react to their words, Lance leans forward and kisses Keith. It’s something small--a chaste press of their lips--but Keith can feel everything in it. The desperation, the anger, the unwavering affection. He can feel it all tingle in his lips, even after Lance pulls away. He can feel it in the blush that tinges his cheeks. He can feel it in his heart as Lance leans his forehead against Keith’s and just rests there for a moment, closing his eyes and slowing his breaths so that they sync up with Keith’s.

There is a silence, and then Hunk coughs into his fist. Allura sighs dreamily. Pidge mutters, “Right in front of my salad?”

And everything is okay.

 

* * *

 

They land on a remote planet with a name that Keith can’t pronounce, one with miles and miles of plains and fields and stretches of beaches with light yellow sands. They set up camp in a picturesque clearing not far from the edge of a cliff. It overlooks the ocean as the late afternoon suns fade in the evening. Hunk is making a stew for the team in a special portable pot over a steady fire, and the smell wafts into the air and mixes with the sea salt breeze.

Before Keith can sit down and rest for a moment, Lance is grabbing onto his hand and stealthily pulling him away from the group. Kosmo notices Keith being stolen away and perks up, but lets them go, yellow eyes following their vanishing figures. He remains where he is, sat at Shiro’s feet.

Lance guides him through hilly grassy plains wordlessly. It looks like he’s heading for the planet’s beach just below the cliff’s edge. His hand is solid and soft in Keith’s. He is going slowly and carefully, guiding Keith so as to not jostle him too much and irritate his injury. Lance seemingly never ceases to be endlessly thoughtful and caring and kind.

Once they are far away from the group, Lance sits down where the yellow-green grasses of the planet’s plains meet the sands of its beaches and gestures for Keith to do the same. The wind is especially fierce, and it whistles as it blows with the rising tides of the ocean. It rustles Lance's hair, and Keith notes that his curls are getting long, brushing over his browbone and reaching below the nape of his neck. It looks good on him.

“So you’re probably wondering why I brought you here today,” Lance says, humor in his voice. He looks so comfortable in his soft red sweatshirt. (Keith is past pretending that it still belongs to him.)

Keith looks at him. “Maybe,” He says.

Lance reaches into the pocket of his sweatshirt and takes out a tiny package, wrapped in shiny lilac paper and tied with a silvery bow. He offers it to Keith. Keith stares at it.

“I did it,” Lance says quietly. “I made the sickest mixtape ever. For you.”

Keith continue to stare at it. Lance’s hand remains where it is, holding the gift-wrapped package out for Keith to take. Moments of agonizing silence pass as Keith continues to wrap his head around what Lance is offering him.

“You know,” Lance says. “This is the part where people usually accept the gift and open it up, so as to prevent the gift-giver from having an anxiety attack.”

Keith hesitantly reaches out and takes the package. It isn’t much larger than the palm of his hand, but it feels heavy with the weight of the gift’s meaning. “This is a declaration of love, huh?” Keith whispers, only half joking.

“Yeah,” Lance responds, voice just as low and serious. “Open it,” He prods.

Keith slowly and delicately unties the ribbon, then undoes the wrapping without tearing it. He slides it off, and underneath is a CD case decorated with little hearts and planets and stars drawn in blue Sharpie. Right in the middle is the title, which says, in neat block letters:

**_Lance’s “I Love You So Much That I Would Hang the Stars for You” Mixtape_ **

“I wanted to put them all on an actual cassette, but Hunk said he couldn’t find any cassettes or cassette players in the electronics store he went into on Zyrillion, so,” Lance rambles. His hands twitch and fidget. “I had to settle for a CD type thing. I hope you don’t mind.”

Keith looks up at that, heart clenching in his chest. “You’ve been planning this since Zyrillion?”

Lance lets out a shaky laugh. “Buddy, I’ve been planning this for much longer than that.”

Keith’s hands shake as he opens the CD case.

On the right sight, the actual CD sits, shiny and glinting in the fading evening light. Blue Sharpie hearts and stars are drawn all over it, just like on the cover. On the left side, a slip of paper sits. It reads, in scrawly cursive:

_\--For Akira Keith Kogane, my Starlight_

_i have found a home and a heart in you._

Keith isn’t crying. He isn’t. He just has space allergies or something. There is something on this planet that’s making his eyes water and his throat close up. He hastily rubs at his face and resolutely doesn’t look at Lance.

He reads the tracks listed underneath the dedication, and they’re almost all pop songs from the 80’s, because Lance is so consistent and predictable in the best way possible. Keith knows that when he eventually sits down listens to the mixtape in its entirety, all he will be able to think about is Lance’s smile and Lance’s laugh and the way Lance sings the songs so much better than anything Keith has ever had the privilege of hearing; think about all of the planets in the vast expanse of space that they have travelled through together, all the while Lance was humming _Time After Time_ or _Material Girl_ ; think about how Lance can make even the most annoying songs the most appealing ones with the beautiful timbre of his voice.

“Keith? Do you like it?” Keith can hear the nervous tension in Lance’s voice, and he hates it--he hates that Lance can think even for a _second_ that Keith doesn’t feel the same way, that Keith isn’t hugely touched by this small romantic gesture.

“I,” Keith starts, and his voice cracks. “I love it.”

Lance tenses up before hesitantly reaching out to Keith’s face. “Keith, are you… Are you crying?”

Keith looks up with thick globs of tears clouding his vision and streaking down his face--and he doesn’t know what to do, because he’s never felt this way before. He has spent his whole life building walls and hardening his skin, unwilling to let himself be taken down by anything or anyone. He has spent his whole life alone, and without a home, and without anything to tie him down to the solid earth. He has spent his whole life preparing himself for tragedy, so that when it inevitably comes, he won’t be as devastated.

But he is completely unprepared for this; for the kind of tears that come with gratitude, come with warmth, come with love. Lance made him a mixtape of cheesy 80’s love songs, and doodled hearts and stars on the CD cover, and called him starlight in his perfect messy handwriting. And Keith has never been more in love.

“Keith!” Lance exclaims, eyes wide and panicked as he grabs Keith’s face and blots the tears with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. “Oh my God, baby, I made you cry. What the hell, I’ve never seen you cry before, shit, what the fuck--”

“Lance, I love it,” Keith interrupts. His voice cracks, but he can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed.

Lance’s words die on his tongue. “You do?” He asks. He seems so uncertain in this moment, so nervous and unsure of himself. “Because if you don’t, it’s fine. It’s okay if it’s too much or not enough, just let me know, okay? I’ve never really… I’ve never really done this before, with someone I care about as much as I care about you.”

Keith melts.

“It’s perfect, Lance,” He murmurs. His hand comes up to rests on Lance’s chest, right over his heart. “It’s perfect and amazing and I love it so much.”

“Okay,” Lance says. His fingers stroke Keith’s cheekbone.

And Keith has always been the impulsive one, the one who steals hoverbikes and jumps in front of bullets and says “ _I love you, a lot”_ first. So when he leans forward and captures Lance’s lips in a kiss, Lance hardly seems surprised, drawing Keith in like how the moon draws in the tides. He holds Keith’s tear-stained face in his large, calloused hands, and kisses Keith. His lips are sweet and full warm, and he kisses Keith. His eyes are shut, eyelashes creating shadows against the skin of his cheeks, and he kisses Keith.

And Keith kisses him back.

They stay like that for a while, and Keith--Keith just clutches onto Lance’s sweatshirt, and feels the seabreeze in his hair and neck, and breathes in the scent of Lance; the scent of mint and soap and lavender; the scent of bubbly milkshakes and bonfires with roasted marshmallows and freshly-fallen snowflakes.

It smells like hope.

 

☆ﾟ. * 

**Author's Note:**

> -this was kinda all over the fuckin place because that is the state of my mental health currently so i apologize for that lmfao  
> -if u liked it i would love it if u left a comment or a kudo! even tho i typically don't respond to comments, i read every single one, i promise! they make me so happy and motivate me to keep writing! :))  
> -idk if any of u are wondering but uhh im currently working on an adashi cyberpunk au which is at 8k words as of rn so. let's go lesbians!!! be on the lookout for it!!  
> come yell at me on tumblr [@etherja](http://etherja.tumblr.com/) !! i'd love it if y'all asked me about my wips!


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